


Mischief

by Mordraugsereg



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordraugsereg/pseuds/Mordraugsereg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has the best idea to get Derek to lighten up. Give him a puppy he found...at the pound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mischief

In a small apartment on the outskirts of Beacon Hills mischief was afoot. It took the form of a small four legged creature. Yellow fur covered its body, pink nose with one small black dot on the top of it, and paws too big for its small frame. The mastermind behind the trouble maker was none other than one Stiles Stilinski.

Presently, Stiles was in the process of giving the other a bath when he heard the front door bang open and felt the small creature in the tub tremble under his hinds. The resounding bang of the door closing reverberated through the walls of the apartment signaling that the bath was over. A quick rinse under the faucet was accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps closing in on the bathroom. Snatching the towel up with one hand and the wet ball of fur with the other, Stiles threw the towel around the young animal and turned to face the door as it swung open.

“Stilinski! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” If it had been any other occasion the questions would have been asked after said teen was pushed against a hard surface and a restricting hold on his neck. “And what do you have in your arms?”

The brown eyed boy gave a nervous chuckle as the thing in question started to wriggle in his arms. It had apparently had enough of being hidden away, wet from its bath, and cold from the cool air that was let in upon the owner’s entry into the bathroom. “Don’t eat her, or me for that matter, but especially her. She’s only a puppy.”

Glancing down to the squirming mass in his arms, he flicked the towel off her face and turned her towards the angry face of Derek Hale. The small puppy whined as its eyes briefly met sapphire then burrowed back into the arms holding her, face hidden from the angry glare.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re in my apartment with that thing.” Derek moved out of the doorway and over to the human and pup. He gave the yellow rump a flick before heading back out the door.

Stiles had no choice but to follow as he gave the small puppy a rub down. By the time he made it into the living room she was all but dry and wiggling in his arms again. Derek was seated on his couch, perched on the edge, daggers shooting from his eyes as he tracked the others movements.

Taking a seat on the floor since it did not look like he was welcome on the couch, Stiles placed the small pup on the floor and smiled as she bit into the towel and started chewing on it. Before she had a chance to permanently damage the material he removed it from her sharp puppy teeth and set about rubbing her soft stomach, all but forgetting the brooding man a few feet away.

When she launched her small frame at the teen and he dramatically over exaggerated her tackle, he became aware of the other occupant of the room again; his head landing between the others feet. A quick hand shot out and grabbed the scruff of the puppy’s neck, an indignant cry slipping from Stiles’ mouth on the pup’s behalf, lifting it from the smaller boy’s chest. Stiles tried to get her back but a shoed foot planted on his chest brought his upward motion to a stop.

Puppy in one hand, Derek asked, “Why are you in my house with this _thing_?” Her tail was between her legs, curled in on herself, as she was surreptitiously sniffed. His nose wrinkled at the smell he received and held her a little farther out from himself. “And why does she smell like green apples?”

If it weren’t for the death glare that was firmly seated on his face and the anger in his tone, Stiles would have laughed at Derek’s last question. If he was as angry as he appeared to be why would he be questioning what she smelt like instead of throwing the two out of his apartment?

Picking to live another day Stiles pushed the urge down and relaxed under the foot trapping him on the floor. “I’m here with the _puppy_ because no one else can take her. My dad’s mildly allergic, Scott’s mom says he’s too irresponsible, Allison’s family seems to be the last place to send a dog to, Jackson’s too much of a prick to care about something other than himself, and Danny already has three. His parents won’t let him have another. This leaves you as the last logical choice. With you being a werewolf you should be able to take care of her spectacularly well. Oh, and she smells like green apples because of the puppy shampoo I used on her.”

He breathed in two lungful’s of air to replenish the oxygen that he had expelled in his fast explanation.

The electric blue eyes kept darting back and forth between the puppy and Stiles. The anger was slowly bleeding from them as the pup twisted in the grip on its scruff and licked the wrist that came into reach. She wiggled her way free from the grasp and landed with a small huff on the lap of her captor. Her small head shook back and forth, ears flopping as she did so, almost fell from the lap that she was seated on in the processes, and latched onto the bottom hem of the white shirt Derek was wearing. After giving the fabric a tug, her head whipped back and forth, small growls and yips escaping her.

Stiles, still trapped under Derek’s shoe, tried to squirm out from under the sole and save the pup from certain doom, stilled when he caught a glimpse of the older man’s face. This wasn’t good at all. He needed to get free before something else happened. Digging his blunt fingernails into the soft skin around Derek’s ankle, he yanked to the side as hard as he could and whooped as the foot flew from his chest. Rolling onto his side and pushing to his feet, he turned to snatch the retriever from Derek’s lap only to be met by another unspeakable sight.

In the minute that it had taken him to get free and onto his feet the puppy had, for the lack of a better description, reduced Derek to smiles. Not a full blown smile but a slight, happy, upturn of the lips. Amusement danced in Derek’s green eyes as the puppy played tug of war with his shirt. A small gasp left Stiles’ lips as he watched Derek playfully roll the pup onto her back and send his fingers skittering across her tummy and gently scratching her sides.

Her little tail beat an unsteady rhythm on the couch as she was tickled, rubbed, rolled, scratched, and played with. Her sharp teeth found purchase in the sleeve of Derek’s leather jacket and used the material as leverage to pull herself onto her feet. Unsteady on her feet as the couch cushions dipped under her small weight she tumbled into Derek’s side.

The careful rough housing and game of tug of war had caused the white shirt to rise and as Derek shifted on the couch to make more room for the pup to play, she seized the small opportunity that had been presented to her. Tan flesh flashed just before her eyes as his jacket rose up and she lapped at it. A startled noise slipped from the older man’s lips before another noise, one that was so not the Derek that Stiles had come to know, burst forth.

As Stiles watched the small yellow puppy, something so far off the radar of what he would have guessed would make the older open up, was further reducing the werewolf into a laughing mess. After her first few initial licks she had been scooped up by a pair of hands but she had pounced out of them and onto Derek’s broad chest. She quickly scaled the landscape of muscle and was licking his face before Stiles had a chance to blink and realize what had happened.

Taking pity on Derek he grabbed her away from the usually scowling face and jumped out of the werewolf’s reach. This time Stiles did laugh at Derek. Smiling face safely masked by annoyance, Derek cast a glare in his direction.

Voice laced with amusement and dripping with sarcasm, “I take it you don’t want her either. Such a vicious little she-devil isn’t she.”

Stiles stood his ground as green eyes regarded him for the longest time. The puppy was gnawing on his shirt sleeve as he waited for Derek to speak. As he was contemplating glancing to the puppy to see how badly his shirt was ruined he heard and saw the man on the couch take a deep breath.

As Derek stood Stiles took a step back. Each advancing step was mirrored with a retreating one. When a smirk replaced the blank expression Stiles was about to turn and run. His shoulder knocked into the wall before his back made contact with it and he groaned as the last few feet were closed between them.

“Listen to me carefully Stilinski. You are going to forget everything you just saw or you’re going to find your head beside your body, then you are going to tell me how you came to be in possession on her.”

His hold on the pup slipping, Stiles pushed her off onto Derek and inwardly smirked as she went back to lapping at his chin like they were still on the couch. “I found her. She had been abandoned and I couldn’t leave her where she was.”

Derek was cut off before he had a chance to respond by a full body sneeze from the puppy. With her muzzle so close to Derek’s face her puppy breath fanned across his cheek and to his nose. Stiles would later equate the response Derek had to it as that of catnip for a cat.

The older man collapsed on the floor where he stood and wrestled with the pup as she nipped, bit, pawed, licked, and drooled all over him. Stiles thought he heard the man say something about evil, conniving, manipulative, teens who should keep out of other people’s business but with the puppy barking and Derek occasionally laughing at her, he wasn’t sure.

A couple of mornings later when Stiles came to check up on the puppy, named Mischief, he was met with a silent house. This wouldn’t have bothered him if he knew that there wasn’t a puppy living in the house that could cause as much racket at a stampeding herd of elephants, but being the wise man that he was, he knew there was something wrong.

He crept from room to room so as to not alert anyone to his presence, not knowing what he was looking for but knowing he’d recognize it when he came upon it. The living room was clear of anything suspicious. The kitchen had puppy bowls full of food and water while the bathroom had a used puppy pad on the floor.

Moving down the silent hallway and towards the main bedroom, Stiles poked his head inside. Pulling out his phone, turning any and all noise features off, he snapped a picture of the scene before him.

Derek was stretched diagonally across his bed face down, pillow squashed under his cheek. His legs were tangled in the sheets. One arm was slung over the side of the bed while the other was parallel with his body. Snuggly curled into the covers and bunched up fabric of his shirt, was the puppy. Her body was curled in on itself on the small of his back, pink nose buried under a paw.

Stiles retreated from the apartment, a smirk playing at his lips. “You never asked me _where_ I found her at,” whispered down the hallway to the sleeping figure on the bed.


End file.
